X-Wing: Knights of Plooma Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Fifteen months later
Jade-Skywalker wedding
In all, it was the perfect affair for Luke and Mara.
Hobbie knew that they would have rather tossed out the guest list (mostly to keep out well-wishers from the Senate; how Borsk Fey'lya was invited was beyond him), but they made the best of it. Seated nearest to them at the reception were their closest friends and family. To one side was Talon Karrde and several members of his smuggling ring. Hobbie couldn't help but notice that the information broker seemed to be enjoying the company of his new employee a good deal. To the other side were Luke's family and the Rogues, the entire squadron invited by Luke.
Brushing past a pair of senators he barely recognized, Hobbie made his way towards the table where the other Rogues were seated. Just as he was about to push past a crowd of onlookers that hadn’t quite moved to their tables, a familiar voice called out to him.
“Major Klivian!” Fiolla Flotto said.
Hobbie turned to see the smiling girl hand-in-hand with another familiar face, Murray Dyartes. “Fiolla,” Hobbie said, “what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to run into you.”
“Master Skywalker invited certain members of the Senate to attend the reception,” she explained. “As a show of goodwill.”
Hobbie blinked. “I see…”
“I was elected as Plooma’s Senate representative last month!” she said proudly.
“That’s…” Hobbie could only manage to blink several times before finding words. “That’s wonderful, Fiolla. Congratulations. And Murray, I assume you two are a…companionship, now?”
“Yes,” Murray confirmed with a nod. “We’re engaged to be wed next month.”
“And we would be honored if you would attend!” Fiolla said, nodding vigorously. “In addition, if you would like to join us in our hotel room after the reception, we would be honored to host your presence.”
Hobbie’s jaw briefly dropped, but he recovered quickly. Did she just offer a…no. No, she couldn’t have. He shook his head. “I do apologize but I’ve got… erm… paperwork. On my desk. At work. Important paperwork. Must attend to it quickly, you understand.”
Fiolla smiled once more. “Of course, Major. But if you change your mind, you can find us in the Coruscant Grand.”
With that, the two Ploomians walked towards their table, but Hobbie could have sworn he saw Murray mouth “help me” before disappearing into the crowd. Heaving a sigh of relief, Hobbie finally made his way to the other Rogues and sat down at their table. The usual pleasantries of a wedding reception were had, from surrogate father Talon Karrde’s speech to Han’s loving roast of Luke’s various exploits. Just as Hobbie thought the speeches were over, Wes Janson stood from his seat at the Rogue table.
"If I can have your attention," Wes said as he stood from his seat. Sitting beside him, Inyri Forge covered her face with the palm of her hand. "It is time to announce the winner of the Jade-Skywalker Marriage Pool."
Mara groaned. "You had a betting pool?"
"They have a betting pool for everything, dear," Luke replied.
"And when did you batch of flying miscreants set this up?" Mara asked, glancing at Wes.
"The day we left Plooma," he responded with a wide grin.
"Were we really that predictable?"
"Yes," Hobbie and several other Rogues responded at the same moment.
Rolling her eyes, Mara waved for Wes to continue. He pulled a tattered sheet of flimsy out of his coat pocket and scanned over it momentarily before letting out an audible sigh. "The winner," he said, "is the good General Wedge Antilles with a guess of fifteen months."
Leia Organa Solo, seated beside Luke, let out a laugh. "I swear, Wedge, sometimes you know my brother better than I do."
"Corellian intuition," Han offered.
Wedge grinned and folded his arms across his chest. "Good executive officers can read their CO's thoughts. For example, right now Luke is thinking a medium-rare bantha steak would be pretty good."
"It's true," Luke deadpanned. "I really could go for a medium-rare bantha steak right now."
"See?" Wedge said before turning to the table of Rogues. "Now as for you lot, pay up."
Grumbling, Hobbie reached into his pocket and retrieved a few credchits, tossing them into the center of the table. He always promised himself never to take part in another squadron betting pool, but someone would always force him into it. There was another two hundred credits he'd never see again. "And thus closes the datapad on our Ploomian adventure," Hobbie said. "May we never speak of that awful experience again."
"Oh come on," Corran said from across the table. "It wasn't so bad."
"I spent two weeks listening to the newly betrothed couple argue like a pair of eight-year-olds, dealing with you encouraging them, and let's not forget I was shot at several times and was forced to engage in a dogfight. Yes, it was that bad."
"If I recall correctly, you had a rather enjoyable final evening."
The other Rogues snickered, and Hobbie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, until you ruined it."
"Huh?"
"You know, I wonder," Luke mused aloud, cutting off the two pilots. "What was that precious resource we were fighting for on Plooma? I think the codename was unobtanium."
"Oh, that?" Karrde said, entering the conversation. "Deposits of ninety-seven percent sodium chloride."
A hush fell over the Rogues.
"Table salt?" Hobbie said. "Plooma's valuable resource was table salt? Cracken sent us there for table salt?!"
"You have to understand," Karrde explained, "at the time there was a pretty severe shortage of salt because of shipping issues in the core."
"I got shot at and broke my ribs over table salt?!"
Wedge placed a hand on Hobbie's shoulder. "Hobbs, calm down. We couldn't have-"
"Where is he?!" Hobbie demanded, bolting out of his seat and picking up a container of salt off the table. "I'm going to shove this so far up his exhaust port his head is going to spin!"
Later on, after the reception had shifted from dinner to dancing, Karrde waited by himself at the far side of the ballroom for his companion for the evening, Shada D'ukal, to return from the fresher. After a few moments she emerged, along with the bride. They sidled up to him with devious expressions on their faces. "Hello, Karrde," Mara said. "I just ran into Shada in the fresher. I trust that the father of the bride is enjoying the festivities?"
The information broker raised a brow as he took Shada's arm. "Quite." He nodded at her hand. "What do you have there?"
"Oh, this?" Mara questioned innocently. She placed the object in his hand; it was a datacard. "This is my letter of resignation. As of right now, I am officially beginning the process of removing myself from your organization. I'll start training Shada as soon as I return from my honeymoon." Shada turned away as she suppressed a giggle.
Karrde turned the datacard over in his hand a few times, shaking his head in quiet disbelief. Before he could reply Luke appeared beside Mara, linking his arm through his new wife's. "Leia says it's time for the toast," he informed her.
"Of course, love," Mara replied, giving her husband an adoring kiss on the cheek. Luke grinned at her and nodded to Karrde and Shada, then turned to lead Mara towards the dais at the front of the ballroom.
She followed for a few moments, then paused. Very slowly, the newly-minted Mrs. Skywalker glanced over her shoulder and graced Karrde with a coy smile. "Tell me, boss," she said. "Doesn't irony taste delicious?"
Fifteen months later
Jade-Skywalker wedding
In all, it was the perfect affair for Luke and Mara.
Hobbie knew that they would have rather tossed out the guest list (mostly to keep out well-wishers from the Senate; how Borsk Fey'lya was invited was beyond him), but they made the best of it. Seated nearest to them at the reception were their closest friends and family. To one side was Talon Karrde and several members of his smuggling ring. Hobbie couldn't help but notice that the information broker seemed to be enjoying the company of his new employee a good deal. To the other side were Luke's family and the Rogues, the entire squadron invited by Luke.
Brushing past a pair of senators he barely recognized, Hobbie made his way towards the table where the other Rogues were seated. Just as he was about to push past a crowd of onlookers that hadn’t quite moved to their tables, a familiar voice called out to him.
“Major Klivian!” Fiolla Flotto said.
Hobbie turned to see the smiling girl hand-in-hand with another familiar face, Murray Dyartes. “Fiolla,” Hobbie said, “what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to run into you.”
“Master Skywalker invited certain members of the Senate to attend the reception,” she explained. “As a show of goodwill.”
Hobbie blinked. “I see…”
“I was elected as Plooma’s Senate representative last month!” she said proudly.
“That’s…” Hobbie could only manage to blink several times before finding words. “That’s wonderful, Fiolla. Congratulations. And Murray, I assume you two are a…companionship, now?”
“Yes,” Murray confirmed with a nod. “We’re engaged to be wed next month.”
“And we would be honored if you would attend!” Fiolla said, nodding vigorously. “In addition, if you would like to join us in our hotel room after the reception, we would be honored to host your presence.”
Hobbie’s jaw briefly dropped, but he recovered quickly. Did she just offer a…no. No, she couldn’t have. He shook his head. “I do apologize but I’ve got… erm… paperwork. On my desk. At work. Important paperwork. Must attend to it quickly, you understand.”
Fiolla smiled once more. “Of course, Major. But if you change your mind, you can find us in the Coruscant Grand.”
With that, the two Ploomians walked towards their table, but Hobbie could have sworn he saw Murray mouth “help me” before disappearing into the crowd. Heaving a sigh of relief, Hobbie finally made his way to the other Rogues and sat down at their table. The usual pleasantries of a wedding reception were had, from surrogate father Talon Karrde’s speech to Han’s loving roast of Luke’s various exploits. Just as Hobbie thought the speeches were over, Wes Janson stood from his seat at the Rogue table.
"If I can have your attention," Wes said as he stood from his seat. Sitting beside him, Inyri Forge covered her face with the palm of her hand. "It is time to announce the winner of the Jade-Skywalker Marriage Pool."
Mara groaned. "You had a betting pool?"
"They have a betting pool for everything, dear," Luke replied.
"And when did you batch of flying miscreants set this up?" Mara asked, glancing at Wes.
"The day we left Plooma," he responded with a wide grin.
"Were we really that predictable?"
"Yes," Hobbie and several other Rogues responded at the same moment.
Rolling her eyes, Mara waved for Wes to continue. He pulled a tattered sheet of flimsy out of his coat pocket and scanned over it momentarily before letting out an audible sigh. "The winner," he said, "is the good General Wedge Antilles with a guess of fifteen months."
Leia Organa Solo, seated beside Luke, let out a laugh. "I swear, Wedge, sometimes you know my brother better than I do."
"Corellian intuition," Han offered.
Wedge grinned and folded his arms across his chest. "Good executive officers can read their CO's thoughts. For example, right now Luke is thinking a medium-rare bantha steak would be pretty good."
"It's true," Luke deadpanned. "I really could go for a medium-rare bantha steak right now."
"See?" Wedge said before turning to the table of Rogues. "Now as for you lot, pay up."
Grumbling, Hobbie reached into his pocket and retrieved a few credchits, tossing them into the center of the table. He always promised himself never to take part in another squadron betting pool, but someone would always force him into it. There was another two hundred credits he'd never see again. "And thus closes the datapad on our Ploomian adventure," Hobbie said. "May we never speak of that awful experience again."
"Oh come on," Corran said from across the table. "It wasn't so bad."
"I spent two weeks listening to the newly betrothed couple argue like a pair of eight-year-olds, dealing with you encouraging them, and let's not forget I was shot at several times and was forced to engage in a dogfight. Yes, it was that bad."
"If I recall correctly, you had a rather enjoyable final evening."
The other Rogues snickered, and Hobbie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, until you ruined it."
"Huh?"
"You know, I wonder," Luke mused aloud, cutting off the two pilots. "What was that precious resource we were fighting for on Plooma? I think the codename was unobtanium."
"Oh, that?" Karrde said, entering the conversation. "Deposits of ninety-seven percent sodium chloride."
A hush fell over the Rogues.
"Table salt?" Hobbie said. "Plooma's valuable resource was table salt? Cracken sent us there for table salt?!"
"You have to understand," Karrde explained, "at the time there was a pretty severe shortage of salt because of shipping issues in the core."
"I got shot at and broke my ribs over table salt?!"
Wedge placed a hand on Hobbie's shoulder. "Hobbs, calm down. We couldn't have-"
"Where is he?!" Hobbie demanded, bolting out of his seat and picking up a container of salt off the table. "I'm going to shove this so far up his exhaust port his head is going to spin!"
Later on, after the reception had shifted from dinner to dancing, Karrde waited by himself at the far side of the ballroom for his companion for the evening, Shada D'ukal, to return from the fresher. After a few moments she emerged, along with the bride. They sidled up to him with devious expressions on their faces. "Hello, Karrde," Mara said. "I just ran into Shada in the fresher. I trust that the father of the bride is enjoying the festivities?"
The information broker raised a brow as he took Shada's arm. "Quite." He nodded at her hand. "What do you have there?"
"Oh, this?" Mara questioned innocently. She placed the object in his hand; it was a datacard. "This is my letter of resignation. As of right now, I am officially beginning the process of removing myself from your organization. I'll start training Shada as soon as I return from my honeymoon." Shada turned away as she suppressed a giggle.
Karrde turned the datacard over in his hand a few times, shaking his head in quiet disbelief. Before he could reply Luke appeared beside Mara, linking his arm through his new wife's. "Leia says it's time for the toast," he informed her.
"Of course, love," Mara replied, giving her husband an adoring kiss on the cheek. Luke grinned at her and nodded to Karrde and Shada, then turned to lead Mara towards the dais at the front of the ballroom.
She followed for a few moments, then paused. Very slowly, the newly-minted Mrs. Skywalker glanced over her shoulder and graced Karrde with a coy smile. "Tell me, boss," she said. "Doesn't irony taste delicious?"